Chapter Text
The wind chimes above the door to the shop rang out a cheerful melody that carried with it a distant giggle, as the door was opened to let another customer in, and the other out. It had been a busy day, and finally was slowing down towards the night.
The regulars had just starter trickling out, following their book-club that gathered every Tuesday in the front of the store, where a comfortable little sitting area had been set up, surrounded by the shelves of trinkets and curiosities for people to browse.
"Are you sure this is going to work this time, Taikei?" A lilac haired boy asked the one next to him in a soft tone, peeking at the screen on the laptop set up on the side-table he'd cleared of clutter, next to the high-backed Victorian loveseat.
"I'm hundred percent on this! Last time we almost got it!" Taikei grinned, adjusting the camera he'd set up for the night, before showing Jirou a thumbs up to let him know it was all set.
It was a weekly occurrence, to have some ghost-hunter or the other ask to film in his shop. Jirou rarely said no to it, endlessly amused by the attempts… Taikei specifically had tried five times already. And the boy paid in cash, so who was he to complain!
Last time they'd focused on the doll on display to the side of the counter, and despite Jirou having told it to behave, the best the hunters had got was something ever so slightly fogging up the glass from the inside. Maybe he should have given clearer instructions…
Jirou had owned Fortune & Folly for almost five years then, and worked there for a decade altogether. It had been his first job ever, and now it was his life, after it had been passed down to him by the previous owner.
But even in that time, not a single day was like the last. The endless flow of new items coming in and out, the cast of characters visiting, and the situations they got themselves into, was enough to keep him entertained.
The interior of the shop hadn't changed in forever, and Jirou had felt no need to do much about that. The walls were painted a deep shade of purple, but it was hard to see them anyway from behind the floor to ceiling shelves that took up the most of the space, filled with both knickknacks and antiques on sale. Where the shelves did not cover, there were paintings and old photos littering the walls, mostly for sale, and some just for decor.
Palmistry hands, star-chart globes and anatomical models lived on display in an eclectic harmony.
He knew most of the items by heart, and sometimes spoke to them too, just to keep them company. It felt like he was always surrounded by friends, in a way, who had accepted him as a sort of protector.
The counter that Jirou stood behind was just a small nook to the side of the back of the store, cutting off access to the slim staircase that led upstairs to where he kept the rest of the items not on display. Nowadays he barely even flinched hearing the patter of little steps above him, used to the noises that came with the nature of the shop.
"Excuse me, I came about that book I asked about last time—," a spectacled man with gray hair beyond his years approached the counter, drawing Jirou's attention from watching the two ghost hunters setting up in the corner.
"Ah! Nankai, you're just on time. I got the book you wanted, but it came with a whole bunch of stuff you might be interested in too. Now where did I put that box…", Jirou chatted cheerfully, turning around on the spot to try see where he might have set the new items down, in the small space behind the counter. It was full of boxes, and of course most of them unlabeled.
He was distracted however from his search, when the chime above the door, instead of it's usual tone, sounded more like a raspy gasp, the distant giggle of it almost replaced by the ring of a temple bell, though still barely there. Frowning, he turned around to see what had caused this shift.
The familiar sight of the man though, turned his frown into a big smile instead, laughing lightheartedly.
"Aniki! You're here!"
The man now standing next to Nankaitarou nodded politely, first to the gray haired one, and then to Jirou.
"…It's to the left of you," Tarou spoke calmly, his sharp, golden eyes moving from Jirou's to the side of him.
Following the line of sight, Jirou was glad to spot the right box in the pile of them, lifting it onto the counter without much effort, despite the clearly very hefty weight of it.
"Please go ahead, I'm sure you can find something interesting in there," the shopkeeper beamed, before leaving his customer to root through the box with sparkling eyes.
"Ah, Aniki… It's good to see you. Are you here on official business, or are you just happy to see me daily? You're always welcome here even without an excuse, y'know," Jirou laughed, moving to the side of the counter to chat with his older brother better.
Tarou simply nodded, keeping his eyes on Jirou.
"There was an incident with paper cranes at the temple nearby. They came from here, did they not?"
Sighing, the younger brother hung his head before shaking it.
"I told them to watch them… They only multiply if you don't watch them."
He then chanced a small glance at Tarou, hoping the damage hadn't been too bad…
But he had no such luck, judging by the firm frown Tarou gave him.
"Two hundred of them."
Just hearing the number made Jirou groan, though it was quickly replaced with a laugh and a shrug as he dismissed the issue.
"Well—! They were made of paper anyway, you can recycle them once the curse is gone! That's a good thing, right? Sustainability?"
"It's irresponsible, Jirou. You can't wave cursed items around like toys… You'll get the public in trouble, and I will have to come fix the mess."
"You came all this way just to scold me? How sweet of you," he laughed, "Besides, isn't that a fun change from the usual? I'd rather deal with a rogue paper crane than whatever uncle Satoshi decides needs doing."
"Uncle Satoshi died two years ago, Jirou."
Tarou's tone was tired, as he scanned the room for any other possible messes waiting to happen.
"…Huh. Well, never liked him," the younger brother shrugged to dismiss the awkward air, before turning to serve a customer with the usual dramatic flare, all smiles and laugher.
Tarou took the opportunity to glance at the glass displays on the wall next to them, more framed than separated from the rest of the shop by the heavy red velvet curtains. Some of the cases were marked with hazard tape and a warning label, which he really did not like. Those things shouldn't have been on display in the first place, and especially not for sale. The doll especially. It had an unnerving presence to it, that was not just theatrics for sales' sake…
"You really shouldn’t keep these out here."
"Relax. They like the attention. Besides, customers love a thrill," the shopkeeper laughed, before tilting his head a bit, fixing Tarou with his golden eyes, though his were much softer and more alive than his brother's were.
"You're just going to brood at me, Aniki? I'm sorry they were trouble to you, but I did give the customer clear instructions! It's not really my fault if they forgot…"
The older brother held his tongue.
Jirou had always been a bit different… Sometimes it was frustrating, yes, but never to the point that Tarou couldn't handle. And maybe deep inside, he found it endearing. He always had.
Jirou leaving the family home had hit him hard, but at least he still had him in the same city, easy to visit when not on duty. His family did not approve of that, but it did not matter much to him. Jirou had been his best friend.
And watching him now as he stood there, in his heeled boots and red velvet dress, stars and moons on his belt, he felt fondness, but also a twinge of something else. Something he'd never wanted to name. And would continue not to, for as long as he could.
"Just… try to keep them from getting in the wrong hands," he spoke softer than he might have wanted, before straightening his back again, the professional edge returning to his voice, "One day, Jirou, you’ll say something serious. I’ll be here when you do."
He placed a few new warding slips onto the counter, just to refill Jirou's stash of them, and then he was off.
The door chimed as he left, leaving Jirou to the shop, as it finally emptied of its last lingering customers.
"Right…", he sighed, having made sure to pocket the wards, before slowly letting the smile he always wore, cheerful and impenetrable, fall off his lips. There was no need to keep that up when there was nobody left to see it.
He got to work on filing that day's sales into the black notebook he always kept nearby, settled into the comfortable chair next to the counter. Electronics had a bad habit of draining of power here, so it was more reliable this way…
As he worked, a soft hum crept across the store, something reminiscent of a mother's lullaby rather than the hum of the street outside.
The shop was never truly quiet. Everything had a voice, in a sense. Of years layered on years, stored energy humming like breath. It was relaxing to him, to sit there and listen to the not-quite there sounds of the shop around him.
“Yeah, yeah… I missed you too. I’ll go soon, don’t worry.”
The hum shifted, like a pleased sigh.
“You’ll have all night to chat.”
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